


Diner Date

by runswithwolves (ConstantComment)



Series: 12 Days of Fanfic (2012) [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, First Date, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 11:05:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ConstantComment/pseuds/runswithwolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They give up on the stake-out in favor of a bite at Sandy’s Diner. It's not a date. It's not!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Diner Date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hollys_tree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollys_tree/gifts).



> Prompt: “Is this a date?”

It got weird the moment Derek put his hand in the small of Stiles’ back when he’d tripped on the curb on the walk up to the diner. They’d been on a stake-out in Stiles’ Jeep, as Derek’s life had become more of a cop show than was believable sometimes. And Stiles had been hungry for half-an-hour before he’d started whining, and Derek had thought, manically, maybe this could be it.  
  
Stiles had made one of his faces at him in the car, pouting with his pink lips and his ridiculous amber eyes, and Derek’s resolve to watch Mrs. Matheson’s door crumbled like stale bread.  
  
So they’d gone to Sandy’s.  
  
Sandy’s was the silver diner in town, the one with the curly fries that Stiles consumed like crack, and now they were at the front steps, and Stiles was looking at him funny and sauntering into the diner when Derek sighed and opened the door for him.  
  
Stiles bit his lips red as he perused the menu, as if he wasn’t about to get a bacon-avocado burger and a milkshake. He often smelled like it on pack meeting nights.  
  
“Dude, what are you getting?”  
  
Derek blinked, and then looked down at the menu.  
  
“Salad,” he said to the first word he spotted.  
  
When he looked up, Stiles was smiling goofily at him. Derek rolled his eyes and peered over Stiles’ shoulder at the bar and the grill beyond.  
  
“Man, I am so judging. What kind of werewolf are you?”  
  
Derek kicked him under the table, and even though Stiles made a ruckus, Derek had made sure he wouldn’t hurt him.  
  
“You fail at playing footsie,” Stiles teased, just before Sandy herself shuffled over and asked for their orders.  
  
“What would you like, dears?”  
  
Stiles ordered, predictably, a bacon-avocado burger, et cetera, and grinned as Derek turned on the charm and asked for a steak salad.  
  
It was five minutes before Stiles was crumpling the paper from his straw and flicking it at Derek, who caught each one and threw them in Stiles’ water glass.  
  
“Jerk,” Stiles grumbled, although Derek was pretty sure Stiles enjoyed watching him bat the paper out of the air. He was very easily amused. Considering Derek was often at a loss around him, it worked pretty well. “You tell Scott we gave up on the stake-out?  
  
Derek snorted, and watched as Stiles slid his cell phone out on the table and tapped at it absently. He grabbed at every pocket on his person before before sighing dramatically.  
  
“Aw, man, I forgot my wallet in the car.”  
  
Derek shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Don’t worry about it. I got it covered.”  
  
Stiles smiled, surprised. “Thanks, dude. I can pay you back, if you—”  
  
“Seriously, don’t worry about it.”  
  
Derek looked away before it got more… weird, but when he glanced back over Stiles was still watching him.  
  
“Are you bribing me? Am I about to be bait for one of your werewolfy plans?”  
  
Derek frowned incredulously. “No. Just let me pay for your dinner, for Christ’s sake!”  
  
Silence.  
  
“Derek,” Stiles said, and then their dinners arrived.  
  
Derek scarfed down the steak first before picking at his salad as Stiles pigged out on his own feast.  
  
The next time Stiles caught Derek staring, he just gave him a goofy, ketchup-smeared smile before gulping down his water.  
  
The resulting mess when Stiles remembered all the paper balls disintegrating at the bottom of his cup was almost as great as watching Stiles try to car dance.  
  
Not that Derek was a good judge of car dancing.  
  
When they’d gotten milkshakes to go, Derek paying and tipping Sandy real well, Stiles walked closer than normal. He side-eyed Derek as they determinedly enjoyed their milkshakes in the December weather. The parking lot was slick and reflective and Stiles’ eyes glinted with the neon of the ‘Beacon Hills’ Best Coffee’ sign.  
  
“Is this a date?” Stiles asked quietly as they splashed through a puddle, immediately fishing the straw out of his milkshake like he regretted asking.  
  
Derek swallowed, before saying, “No.”  
  
Stiles almost looked… disappointed.  
  
“If it were a date,” Derek said down to the pavement. “I’d… I’d pick you up in the Camaro. Take you somewhere nice—”  
  
Stiles, who’d been slackjawed before that, interrupted with, “Where I could embarrass myself properly.”  
  
“And pay for your dinner. Maybe take you somewhere else for dessert.”  
  
“Dude, always milkshakes. Always Sandy’s milkshakes!”  
  
“Sure. Sandy’s milkshakes. I’d just… I’d want to do something special.” He cleared his throat.  
  
Stiles smiled, one of the ones that was small and pleased. “Man, you really know how to hypothetically treat a lady,” he said, a little gravelly.  
  
“And I’d kiss you at the end of the night.”  
  
Stiles’ lips parted. Derek leaned a little closer; he couldn’t help it.  
  
“Maybe on your doorstep.”  
  
“Or maybe you just couldn’t wait that long and wanted to ravage me even before I’d finished my milksha—“  
  
Derek cupped Stiles’ face in his hands and kissed him soundly.  
  
Stiles’ milkshake, which he’d been waving around emphatically, smashed on the asphalt in the middle of the parking lot. Where they were standing. Where Derek was kissing Stiles who tasted like strawberry ice cream and everything good.  
  
“Shit—” Derek pushed away, rubbing a hand over his scalp and looking anywhere but in Stiles’ eyes. “I’m sorry. That.”  
  
“Was _awesome!_ ” Stiles squealed. He was hoarse. “Let’s do that again.”  
  
Stiles took him by surprise by grabbing his leather jacket and eagerly pressing his lips to Derek’s, and soon he was laving at Stiles’ inexperienced tongue and coaxing little noises out of his throat.  
  
When they parted, Derek found he was clutching Stiles’ hoodie in both hands, pressed up against him, but Stiles didn’t seem to mind, snaking his arms around Derek’s neck and sneaking his nose between Derek’s collar and the sensitive skin of his neck.  
  
“You made me drop my milkshake,” Stiles mumbled against his skin.  
  
Derek smiled. “Guess I’ll have to take you on that date, then.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr during the times I'm not here, and I'm definitely on a sterek kick, so come visit! [RUNSWITHWOLVES.TUMBLR.COM](http://runswithwolves.tumblr.com)


End file.
